The War Against Ourselves
by SaiyanQueenVega
Summary: Red vs Blue: 50 Drabbles taking a look into the mind of Private Franklin Delano Donut. Chapter 11: In Sickness
1. Happy Things

**The War Against Ourselves**

Chapter 1: Happy Things

**Disclaimer: **Red VS Blue isn't mine and neither is the challenge that I stole this idea from. Hell, if we want to get technical according to the bank my house and car (the Puma) don't really belong to me yet either!  
**Rated: **PG  
**Warnings: **Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.  
**Summery: **The challenge was to take these 50 words and write one sentence based off of each of them using only 1 character's POV. But I'm going to change it for my own fiendish purposes. Now it's drabble for each word. None of them really relate to each other, nor are they chronological. Just random blurbs!  
**Character: **Franklin Delano Donut  
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**#01 - Snow**

I do it every time the calendar falls on Christmas here at Red base. Grif and Simmons think I'm crazy for doing it every year and Sarge threatened to court-martial me if I did it one more time. I can forgive them for lacking the proper spirit. Southerners, all three of them, from California, Nevada, and Texas respectively. They don't really get it. But I grew up with several inches of crisp Iowa snow falling every Christmas morning. Sure, a kitchen filled with finely chipped ice cubes isn't the same as real snow but I've learned to make due. Besides, who else in this canyon can say that they've nailed Sarge in the face with a snowball sneak attack?

**#32 - Rice**

Rice is our most plentiful food source here at Blood Gulch Outpost #1. We eat it five or six days out of the week. Rice also happens to be one of the most versatile foods in existence. There's almost nothing you can't do with rice given the proper ingredients... and there lies the problem. There are very few proper ingredients lying around this particular base. But as the unofficial chef, I make due. While the eggs lasted we had fried rice, rice scrambled eggs, and rice omelets. Now that the eggs have run out I have to use more creative mixtures. Oreos over steamed rice is a favorite with Grif. The mushrooms that constantly grow around our shadowed base can be used to make rice stuffed mushroom poppers, which are Simmons' personal favorite food of choice. Even Strawberry Yoo-hoo works well to make an interesting rice pudding that Sarge seems to find little to complain about.

**#37 - Library**

Military libraries are good for two very different things: reading and dark reclusive corners to make out in. I happen to be a big fan of both pastimes. It's not often that I find myself a man who is willing to risk being caught in public with his tongue in another guy's mouth. It's even rarer to find myself a man who will come with me to a library for BOTH of its purposes. Reading seems to be a dying pastime now-a-days. That is, with the exception of myself and the scrumptious Latino stud muffin whose lap I'm sitting in at the moment enjoying The Scarlet Letter with. I'm soaking it all up today because in three days I have orders to ship out to an off world base to take up a front line position for the first time.


	2. Something's Gone Terribly Wrong

**Chapter 2: Something's Gone Terribly Wrong  
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**Disclaimer:** Red VS Blue isn't mine and neither is the challenge that I stole this idea from. Hell, if we want to get technical according to the bank my house and car (the Puma) don't really belong to me yet either!  
**Feedback:** Welcomed into my open arms with just as much enthusiasm as I have for short Irkens named Zim and ambiguous men in pink armor!  
**Rated:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Darkness, Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.  
**Summery:** The challenge was to take these 50 words and write one sentence based off of each of them using only 1 character's POV. But I'm going to change it for my own fiendish purposes. Now it's drabble for each word. None of them really relate to each other, nor are they chronological. Just random blurbs! Set before, during, and after the war.  
**Character: **Franklin Delano Donut

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#44 - Contact **

We've all been in this valley for too long. That's the only reason I can think of for why this happened. I should have fought harder. Maybe I could have scratched and clawed more strongly, or screamed louder. Then I could have gotten away. I've been without human contact for so long that maybe some small part of my brain was willing to submit to what transpired. As I move to gather together the pieces of my armor that have been scattered carelessly across the cave floor I feel a hand ghost along my thigh. I can't help but shiver. I'm not sure if it's due to fear or the disgust that I'm feeling with myself right now. I'm handed my jumpsuit by the unclothed form next to me and I can't help but ask why, out of every available body in this canyon, I'd been singled out. The answer I am given is unemotional and simple. I was the only person here that wouldn't have enjoyed it. I dress quickly and dash back to Red base to shower... and to try to scrub her touches, and the memories of the black-clad freelancer off of my skin.

**#34 - Paint**

I'll show them. I'll show them all that it was a mistake to leave me behind! A mistake to abandon me like I meant nothing! All it takes is a fresh coat of paint. The sound above me makes me look up from my task. I can hear Church talking to Tex on the roof above me in Blue base. He's having a hard time convincing her that this is a good idea. But her grudge can't last forever. I'll prove my worth even if it means spilling the blood of every Red in this canyon. I'll die trying if I have to! I run short on paint and am forced to leave the bottoms of my armor's feet lightish red… pink. I'll have that as a reminder of all the ridicule and feelings of worthlessness they left with me. As I step back into the canyon's sun the fresh silver paint reflects rainbows in the dirt, all the colors in this conflict of Red verses Blue. All it takes is a fresh coat of paint for me to start over. All it takes is a fresh coat of paint to leave Red behind me and embrace a glorious Blue future...

**#41 - Music **

It's faint at first, but it gradually builds. And so does my curiosity. Where is that Japanese Opera coming from and what are the Blues playing it for? From my post on the roof of the base I can see nothing. Even with the aid of the scope on the sniper rifle there are no signs of where the melody is coming from. So they must be INSIDE the base. It only takes about half an hour of listening to some of my favorite pieces before my curiosity gets the better of me and I start the long risky trek across the canyon. As I cross the halfway hill the music suddenly goes quiet again and I freeze in place. A sound behind me lets me know that I've been had. As I swing around I feel a sickeningly familiar weight attach itself to my helmet right before a soldier in black armor materializes. Strangely the last sound I remember hearing on the mortal plane isn't Tex telling me that payback is a bitch. The last thing I remember is the ending notes of that beautiful, beautiful music...


	3. When the War is Over

**Chapter 3: When the War is Over**

**Disclaimer: **Red VS Blue isn't mine and neither is the challenge that I stole this idea from. Hell, if we want to get technical according to the bank my house and car (the Puma) don't really belong to me yet either!  
**Feedback:** Welcomed into my open arms with just as much enthusiasm as I have for short Irkens named Zim and ambiguous men in pink armor!  
**Rated: **PG  
**Warnings: **Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.  
**Summery: **The challenge was to take these 50 words and write one sentence based off of each of them using only 1 character's POV. But I'm going to change it for my own fiendish purposes. Now it's drabble for each word. None of them really relate to each other, nor are they chronological. Just random blurbs!  
**Character: **Franklin Delano Donut

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**#30 - Crown**

I'm not a drinker. You could ask anyone that knew me if they weren't all hundreds of years dead by now. But Grif had me sitting in a bar drinking Crown and Cokes the second we got back to Earth. I don't think I'd ever really seen Grif happy before that night at the bar. He was finally free from the Army, he was free from Blood Gulch, and he was slamming down his liquor of choice. That was reason enough for him. I guess I never really pictured him as the type who would welcome company, especially mine, for a night of celebratory drinking. But I was apparently mistaken because most of the night is a blur now that I try to look back on it... mostly a haze of Crown and Coke, good jokes, and laughing fits at Simmons' expense. But we parted as friends, and that's more than I can say about the rest of our squad. So now, 3 weeks later, I find myself standing in front of an unfamiliar condo holding a slip of paper with an address scrawled on it in one hand and a bottle of Crown in the other. He'll be tickled to see us both.

**#03 - Brick**

I'd like to say that it feels good to be home, but the world changed while we were in that god forsaken canyon. Time travel aside, it took me several days of research online to get myself up-to-date on all that I'd missed. All of the oppressive laws that have been passed, all the condemning headlines, and all the acts of violence... It makes me look back at the days when we were begrudgingly tolerated with a whole new appreciation. When I walk down the street people now openly stare. They whisper and sneer. This morning I was awakened by the sound of a window breaking. A large brick with a note wrapped around it laid amid the shards of glass in my living room. Reading the note makes me wish that I'd never come back from Blood Gulch. At least Sarge and Grif and Simmons didn't hate me. But they probably wouldn't understand this. I glance back down at the note and tiers begin to cloud my vision. -_ALL YOU FUCKING FAGGOTS ARE GOING TO DIE!_ Welcome home soldier, I tell myself, welcome home.

**#35 - Ache**

When you're a soldier the sound of an enemy's grenade exploding is never a good thing... and it's even worse when that grenade is situated about two inches from your skull. Even now, years later, the temple of my forehead will start to pound at sudden, inexplicable, moments. It's an ache that spreads through my whole body and leaves me curled into a fetal position, unable to move until it subsides. I've thought about going to a doctor many times. I just don't think I could stomach another x-ray showing just how close to permanent brain damage I came because of slivers of my OWN skull lodged in my brain. Thanks Tex, thanks a lot...


	4. With Your Heart

Chapter 4: With Your Heart

**  
Disclaimer: **Red VS Blue isn't mine and neither is the challenge that I stole this idea from. Hell, if we want to get technical according to the bank my house and car (the Puma) don't really belong to me yet either!  
**Feedback:** Welcomed into my open arms with just as much enthusiasm as I have for short Irkens named Zim and ambiguous men in pink armor!  
**Rated: **PG  
**Warnings: **Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.  
**Summery: **The challenge was to take these 50 words and write one sentence based off of each of them using only 1 character's POV. But I'm going to change it for my own fiendish purposes. Now it's drabble for each word. None of them really relate to each other, nor are they chronological. Just random blurbs!  
**Character: **Franklin Delano Donut

**

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**#02 - Child **

I've always wanted to have a kid. Yeah I know, that's about as likely to happen as Sarge having wild passionate sex with one of the Blues, but it's nice to dream. I sometimes think about adopting a daughter when I get back home. I like to think that I'd be a good father. I'd always be there to play Barbies with her and to tie braids in her hair. I'd never neglect tea parties or be too busy to just sit and color. We could check out guys at the mall together when she grew up, and get facials together...Maybe I'm just lonely. Maybe it's just a foolish dream. But maybe I'd be just the father that some lost little girl out there needs.

**#04 - Judgment**

It's never a good idea to get caught by your superior officer kissing...another guy...from the other team...while in your own base. But it seemed to me that Sarge was taking things a bit far with the accusation of treason. It was an awful feeling, sitting in the hold and not knowing what they were doing with Caboose. None of this was really his fault. The poor guy was probably confused out of his mind about what he'd done wrong. So when the familiar vibration of tank shells hitting the side of the base started, it was actually a welcome sound. The sound meant that at least Caboose would probably get out of this situation without getting executed by shotgun bullet to the forehead. I knew there'd be no trial for me. I'd been immediately judged guilty by my superior officer and was simply waiting on borrowed time. Nothing could have surprised me more than the cavalry of Blues that suddenly appeared at my door to rescue me too. I guess the Blues look out for their own, heart and all.

**#08 - Star **

It's night here in Blood Gulch. It's pitch black outside and every soldier with any sense is holed up inside avoiding a possible sneak attack in the darkness. Well, everyone is inside except me... after all, the sky is filled with stars! The sun actually only sets once every two weeks here in the gulch and no one seems to care particularly much about looking toward the skies. Star gazing an event that I alone look forward to. I could sit for days just gazing at familiar constellations and making up new ones. I've even plotted out my lucky star. Mimosa keeps me company and shines down of me on these rare nights. She hears my whispered troubles, my hopes, my thoughts, and my dreams.


	5. Trials of Enlistment

Chapter 5: Trials of Enlistment

**Disclaimer: **Red VS Blue isn't mine and neither is the challenge that I stole this idea from. Hell, if we want to get technical according to the bank my house and car (the Puma) don't really belong to me yet either!  
**Rated: **PG  
**Warnings: **Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.  
**Summery: **The challenge was to take these 50 words and write one sentence based off of each of them using only 1 character's POV. But I'm going to change it for my own fiendish purposes. Now it's drabble for each word. None of them really relate to each other, nor are they chronological. Just random blurbs!  
**Character: **Franklin Delano Donut

**

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#43 - Sleep **

Sometimes I think I'm the only normal person at this base. Even something as simple as sleeping is made abnormal by my superiors. First there's Sarge. I'd heard stories of seasoned war vets who would sleep with their eyes wide open and with their finger on the trigger of their gun. But now that I live with it as a reality, it's sort of scary. I wake up every morning with a shotgun barrel pointing directly at my head. Sarge may constantly threaten to kill Grif in his sleep... but I'm more worried about _MY_ safety. Simmons bunks above Sarge but he sometimes goes a week at a time without sleeping. Since I arrived here I've never seen him sleep more than 3 days a week. I asked him about it once. He told me that his mind is too busy and that his thoughts keep him awake. And then there's Grif, who bunks above me. He's about one step away from narcolepsy, constantly falling asleep at his post and napping during meetings. He is literally impossible to wake in the morning until his body clock wakes him itself. Seriously, we've set off air horns and fired guns...

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#31 - Time **

I'm finally back. Time travel aside, it's been 12 years since I joined the Red Army, making me 33 years old now that I'm finally home. When I originally joined up it was for a 5 year enlistment, but there's really nothing you can do when you are several solar systems away from Earth and not given the option of a ride home. I've spent the past hour going through mail and notices that never reached me in the field. My boyfriend left me, but I'm not terribly surprised. According to the postmark it only took 4 months away to send him packing. I can't even recall what he looked like now. There are wedding invitations from 7 of my friends. 5 of them are followed a year or so later with birth announcements with notes wondering what's happened to keep me from writing. A tear stained letter from my uncle informs me that my mother passed away during my 8th year away... She died from a cancer I never even knew that she was diagnosed with. As I continue reading through the life that I've missed I can't help but ponder the cruel trick time plays on us all. How it causes us to grow, to drift apart, to forget, to age, and to die.

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#36 - Cherry **

First and foremost I'd like to point out that it's impossible to NOT look sexy while eating cherries. Now, it's not often that we get fresh food in our supply drops. It makes sense since things spoil so fast here in this heat. But I'd been sending requests for new cooking supplies for several weeks, and it's finally paid off. And of course I'm the last person to know about it. So I'm caught completely by surprise when I walk outside and find all three of my teammates sitting around a crate with no shirts on nibbling on cherries and licking juice off their fingers. I can't help but wonder what command thinks we'll be doing with 5 crates of ripening cherries though. Past personal experience has led me to believe that there are really only two sensible uses for cherries…cherry pie and kinky sex games that also involve whipped cream. I'm fairly sure we don't have the ingredients for pie crust sitting around in the kitchen, but I KNOW Grif has a can of whipped cream in his room... Oh hell, I need a cold shower.


	6. Lightish Red Heavy Equipment

**Chapter 6: Lightish Red Heavy Equipment**

**Disclaimer: **Red VS Blue isn't mine and neither is the challenge that I stole this idea from. Hell, if we want to get technical according to the bank my house and car (the Puma) don't really belong to me yet either!  
**Rated: **PG  
**Warnings: **Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.  
**Summery: **The challenge was to take these 50 words and write one sentence based off of each of them using only 1 character's POV. But I'm going to change it for my own fiendish purposes. Now it's drabble for each word. None of them really relate to each other, nor are they chronological. Just random blurbs!  
**Character: **Franklin Delano Donut

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**#18 – Drunk**

I swear that I was drunk when it happened. That makes it partially Grif's fault for coming up with a way to make champagne from scratch and partially Sarge's fault for making drinking on New Year's mandatory. I know that some portion of it was Simmons' fault too, but I can't remember enough of last night to know what part he played. And whose idea was it to invite the Blues? Oh yeah, that was me... All I know is that I woke up this morning with a crushing headache, a pair of foreign boxers in my room with a 'C' inked into its tag, and now I've just discovered that someone carved a heart onto the ass of my armor. I mean it's cute and all, but Sarge is going to be less than pleased. I can't help but grimace at the daunting task ahead of figuring out which of Blue team's 'C's' kept me company last night. Nothing to do, I suppose, except swear off ever drinking again and then start the slow trudge toward Blue base to find answers.

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#33 – Worn **

My golden opportunity has arrived! Command has informed us that there is an update to our MJOLNIR Mark VII armor available and a drop ship arrived this morning ready to either re-outfit or upgrade our entire squad. I can finally get out of that emasculating armor! But as I sit waiting for a technician I glance at the metal table that my armor rests on. The old suit is showing her age. Deep gouges and scratches near the feet tell the tale of many miles traveled across the rocky Gulch dirt trails. There's chipped paint up and down the legs caused by rock spray from the jeep and occasional grenade shrapnel. Slight indentations on the chest plate remain from the scuffle I had with Simmons over O'Malley's motorcycle. The right shoulder has a distinct bullet dent from an attack that was too far away to actually pierce the metal. Even my helmet is showing signs of wear in the form of sun induced color fading. It's protected me from a lot. By the time the tech finally gets to me I've made up my mind… For better or worse, I just hope that the upgrade pieces come in a matching lightish red.

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#15 - Envelope**

I carry the envelope with me all the time. It reminds me of why I'm doing this. I read the letter inside that envelope every night before I go to sleep and every morning when I wake up to keep myself motivated. But when I woke up in this army hospital the first thing they started going on about was the metal plate they'd attached to my skull, and how my head was nearly blown off by a grenade, and how I'm a hero for capturing the Blue flag. I'm more interested in knowing where my envelope has gone but they just keep talking. Yeah, yeah, metal of honor, wounded in action, new armor needs to be fitted, bla bla bla... Where's my envelope? I'm told it's in the equipment room being stored in my new set of armor. That relaxes me. As long as my envelope is inside it…that new suit of armor could be pink for all I care.


	7. Death and Murder on Red Team

**Chapter 7: Death and Murder on Red Team**

**Disclaimer: **Red VS Blue isn't mine and neither is the challenge that I stole this idea from. Hell, if we want to get technical according to the bank my house and car (the Puma) don't really belong to me yet either!  
**Rated: **PG  
**Warnings: **Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.  
**Summery: **The challenge was to take these 50 words and write one sentence based off of each of them using only 1 character's POV. But I'm going to change it for my own fiendish purposes. Now it's drabble for each word. None of them really relate to each other, nor are they chronological. Just random blurbs!  
**Character: **Franklin Delano Donut

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**#21 – Limit**

I want to look away. Watching the blood from what's left of their heads soaking into the dusty ground is making my stomach rebel. He's still standing there too, still glaring, eyes still full of hate. I can't help but shutter a bit when he finally turns those eyes to me. But his expression changes to one that's thoughtful and even a bit apologetic. We talked that evening, for hours. He told me more about himself that evening than in the entire time I'd served with him. He eventually told me why he did it. How there was only so much he could take... I talked a bit too, getting over my shock faster than I thought I would. That night we buried them. Neither of us said a word as we dumped their bodies into makeshift graves and covered them with dirt. It took him several days to make up the grave marker, about the same amount of time it took him to convince me to actually wear the armor he'd stripped off of one of the corpses for me. He told me it was his way of making up for all the gay and pink jokes he'd made. And now a week later I stand here, rereading the words etched onto the headstone.

_Simmons / Sarge  
__Here lay two men that pushed things too far and learned too late that every man has a limit._

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#13 - Fate**

I can't help but wonder if it's my fate to die for this war. I dare a glance over a crumbled wall of what was once our base that I've been using as a shield and attempt to count them. A bullet whizzes past me before I can finish, but there's at least 30 soldiers advancing on us in varying shades of blue armor. There are just too many of them to hold off. Behind me both Grif and Sarge are desperately trying to keep Simmons alive. But judging by the amount of the strangely colored substance that I can only guess is antifreeze soaking into the ground... I'd say it's a failing effort. Was that fate's way of making those two cooperate at least one time before they died? A grenade flies over my head, forcing me to abandon my hiding spot before exploding. Thankfully the dust and debris in the air prevents me from seeing what happened to my comrades behind me. There's a sudden eruption of pain in my chest and moments later I can hear the familiar voice of a teal-clad soldier taking credit for my imminent demise. I rip my helmet off, intent on speaking my well guarded secret to Tucker before I die. But breathing is becoming harder and harder and I can't force any words out. As my vision blackens I can't help but wonder one last thing. Was this fate's cruel way of punishing me for secretly falling in love with the enemy?

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#28 – Last **

It's still hard to believe that I'm the last Red left in Blood Gulch. It all happened so suddenly. I wanted to believe that the Blues had done it, just so that I would have someone to blame. But when I arrived on their doorstep, bloody, bruised, but still alive, to tell them that they'd won there was genuine shock on all their faces. Tucker surprised me by offering their radio so that I could call in the accident to command, but I declined. This section of the Red verses Blue war was over. If I called in to command they'd know that one of us was still alive and the cycle would just start over again here in Blood Gulch. They'd simply send new soldiers... soldiers to replace my fallen comrades. The thought made me ill. No one could ever really replace Sarge, Grif, or Simmons. So I stayed and silently listened as Church radioed in to his superiors that they'd killed all of the Reds. And I watched from the caves through Church's donated sniper rifle as the three Blues and the mercenary were ship lifted away from the planet. No doubt they'd receive a hero's welcome back on Earth. And as the dust settled again I took in the stillness and quiet of the place I'd called home for these past years. I drew in a deep breath and stood, now the last soul left in Blood Gulch.


	8. Interacts Well With Others

**Chapter 8: Interacts Well With Others**

**Disclaimer: **Red VS Blue isn't mine and neither is the challenge that I stole this idea from. Hell, if we want to get technical according to the bank my house and car (the Puma) don't really belong to me yet either!  
**Feedback?:** Welcomed into my open arms with just as much enthusiasm as I have for short Irkens named Zim and ambiguous men in pink armor!  
**Rated: **PG  
**Warnings: **Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.  
**Summery: **The challenge was to take these 50 words and write one sentence based off of each of them using only 1 character's POV. But I'm going to change it for my own fiendish purposes. Now it's drabble for each word. None of them really relate to each other, nor are they chronological. Just random blurbs!  
**Character: **Franklin Delano Donut

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**#07 - Mother**

She's my best friend. She's my confidante. She's the only woman I've ever loved. She's never looked down at me or asked me to change. She's accepted every choice I've made in my life even if I've made some wrong decisions. She's my shoulder to cry on and the person I brag to. She's the number one spot on my speed-dial and my basis of good character. And I know that he's nervous about finally meeting her, but she's still just human like everyone else. She just wants my happiness. And he makes me happy. The rest is really just a matter of conversation. She'll love him because he loves me. I've been telling him that for the last week, so why is he holding his breath now that I've finally introduced them? But a small smile from her is all that **I** need to know that she sees in him what I do. So the rest of the evening can be spent playfully torturing him. After all, mothers have a certain reputation to keep up I suppose.

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#47 – Friends**

It's officially SAD! I've gone over it again and again in my head and I keep coming to the same conclusion. No one in the entire Red army likes me. I don't have one friend among them, and I have a pretty loose definition of the word 'friend'. I mean, I'd be happy to have a teammate who'd at least push me out of the path of a speeding bus. I've had more civil conversations with Tex than with my own team. And I KILLED Tex! It almost makes a guy consider hanging out at Blue base more often. There's got to be something I'm missing. How do I get these guys to like me? I wonder if I should whip the guys up a batch of cookies? Cookies and friendship usually go hand in hand, right?

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#48 - Prison**

I suppose if I really wanted to place blame here I _could_ pin it on Sarge. He threw the first punch that landed us here after all. But it's still mostly my fault. I was just so excited to be back on Earth... and for some reason the first words out of my mouth were that we were going out on the town, on me. I should have known better than to take the guys to my kind of club. It honestly never dawned on me that Sarge would punch out the first guy who pinched his ass. Anyway, this prison cell feels a lot like the bunk back at Red Base. We've only been here five hours and Simmons isn't taking being locked up here too well. His eyes keep darting toward the bars and he's developed a twitch. Grif has been talking to the other guys within hearing distance of our holding cells the whole time. They're comparing stories about past prisoner experiences, and I think he's got them impressed on the fact that he was in _military_ prison. Sarge... Sarge has been glaring at me the whole time, as if it was _MY_ fault that gay guys thought he was cute!


	9. Before You Can Be Reconstructed

**Chapter 9: Before You Can Be Reconstructed**

**Rated:** PG  
**Warnings:** Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.  
**Feedback?:** Welcomed!  
**Summery:** 50 drabbles  
**Character:** Franklin Delano Donut

**#14 - Depart**

It was... strange to think about leaving. Though it certainly didn't come as a surprise. After all, everyone else had already received their marching orders. But even after we'd all said our goodbye's to each other, even after the exchange of awkward handshakes, and even after a grudgingly tolerated group hug... I still couldn't shake a strange feeling. A feeling that, even though we were each going our separate ways, I was about to miss something. That something amazing, something that wouldn't be believed, would happen and I would be missing. And I almost didn't leave. _Almost._

**#46 – Amends**

Before I left there was something that needed to be said, and I was sure that Sarge would never do it. It wasn't difficult to march right into the Blue base. No one seemed concerned about securing anything any more. Especially since they were leaving in mere hours as well. It didn't take long to find who I was looking for. I made a noise on the doorframe to announce my presence. He looked angry at first, but it faded to misery, and quickly was covered by indifference. The hard part was trying to put things into words. What do you say to someone who you've caused to loose something so important? I couldn't think of anything eloquent.  
"_I'm so sorry Church..."_


	10. Wash'ed Up

Chapter 10: Wash'ed Up

**Disclaimer: **Red VS Blue isn't mine and neither is the challenge that I stole this idea from. Hell, if we want to get technical according to the bank I don't own a single thing in my life!

**Feedback?:** Welcomed into my open arms with just as much enthusiasm as I have for short Irkens named Zim and ambiguous men in pink armor!

**Rated: **PG

**Warnings: **Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.

**Summery: **The challenge was to take these 50 words and write one sentence based off of each of them using only 1 character's POV. But I'm going to change it for my own fiendish purposes. Now it's drabble for each word. None of the chapters really relate to each other, nor are they chronological. Just random blurbs!

**Character: **Franklin Delano Donut

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**#49 - Forgive**

The first time he'd met the newest member of Blue Team he'd been barely released from strict bed-rest by Doc. Every move he made hurt and he'd been on some impressive pain medication and antibiotics. So when Caboose had come bumbling into his room dragging the ex-freelancer by the arm to make introductions he'd barely realized that the man wasn't even Church at first. But the moment that the man had opened his mouth...rage. The man even had the nerve to apologize. How could one apologize for looking another human being in the face and casually attempting to murder them for being an inconvenient bystander?

**#25 – Throw**

This wasn't the first time Donut had been in Blue base. Nor was it the first time he'd been taken prisoner into the Blue's base. But this was the first time that their team was trying to extort anything from him. Well, Church had once taken the jeep after a 'total ass-kicking', but that was more theft than extortion.

"...and you want me to do what exactly?"

"Just get him to snap out of it. He's been at it nonstop without sleeping or eating."

"And if he doesn't stop pining soon I'm going to shoot him." The instant that the words were out of his mouth the ex-freelancer's eyes widened at his own faux pas. In contrast the pink soldier's eyes narrowed, his face reddened in anger, and his hands unconsciously moved to cover an all too freshly scarred-over chest wound.

"I didn't mean-"

"You. Out. _NOW_," the blond ordered.

Wash looked to the ceiling and counted to ten, reminding himself that Donut had the right to still not like him. "You can't toss me out of my own base you know. You're the prisoner here." Having finished counting he faced the pink private again, only to find him clutching a plasma grenade.

"Out."

"Oh shit! Er, we were just leaving Donut. GoodluckwithCaboosekaythanks." Tucker shoved the ex-freelancer toward the door, latched onto his arm, and began running.

After about 50 seconds of indignantly being dragged at a flat out run Wash asked a seemingly obvious question. "Why are we still running?"

"You know how you told me about Caboose having the worst throw ever? Well Donut's got the _**best**_ throw ever."

"...Of all time?"

"Yep."

"But we're almost halfway to red base already."

"Keep going. Trust me," Tucker panted.


	11. In Sickness and Not in Health

**Chapter 11: In Sickness and Not in Health  
**

**Disclaimer: **Red VS Blue isn't mine and neither is the challenge that I stole this idea from.  
**Feedback?:** Welcomed into my open arms with just as much enthusiasm as I have for ambiguous men in pink armor!  
**Rated: **PG  
**Warnings: **Language, and gayness from my favorite member of Red Team.  
**Summery: **The challenge was to take these 50 words and write drabble for each word. Not all of them necessarily relate to each other, nor are they chronological. Just random blurbs!  
**Character: **Franklin Delano Donut

**Chapter Notes:** Did anyone else notice the timeline error in Donut's survival story? Donut is released from recovery mode in ep 12 or 13 of Revelation (depending on sponsor or non-sponsor version), but Doc couldn't have been there because he was still quite the prisoner/ tag along of Wash and the Meta at that time. Doc wouldn't have gotten there until at least season 9's timeline. So the medic couldn't have done all the work...

* * *

**#50 – Revive**

He'd been laying near the base for weeks now. He hadn't been able to move, or blink, or tune out the strange glowing apparition of the real world that he'd been locked into since he'd been shot. He knew he should be dead... was this what the afterlife was like? Or perhaps purgatory?

He wished, like he had hundreds of times in the past weeks, that something would take away the muted but still prevalent burning sensation in his stomach where he'd been wounded.

"_Ending Recovery Mode, Red units._"

_**Pain!**_

He'd remembered too late to be careful what you wish for. This agony was much worse. And so Franklin Delano Donut did the most logical thing... He screamed. Long and loud. He attempted to curl into the fetal position but his muscles didn't seem to want to function after so long locked in place. Tears formed in his eyes as he felt the warm wetness of his blood begin to once again run down his sides onto the grass covered ground. He desperately attempted to make his arms obey him, knowing that he needed to stem the flow.

It took his precious time but eventually the pink soldier managed to force the stiff joints and aching muscles to do what he'd wanted and he clamped down on the wound.

"Help me! Somebody help me!" Silence answered him.

_**There's no one here. They left me?**_

Knowing that he needed med-foam from a first aid kit and seeing that no one was going to help him the lightish red private slowly started working his legs into usability.

The soul tearing agony when he finally attempted to stand nearly caused him to black out, but swallowing down a sob and gritting his teeth he put one foot shakily in front of the other.

* * *

**#22 – Sickness **

The first conscious thought of the day Donut had was that he wished for that relative numbness he'd experienced laying in the grass unable to move. A split second later he was frantically rolling to his good side and being violently sick. Of course the action of emptying his stomach aggravated his wound, sending new waves of pain up his side and causing his nausea to become even worse. Several minutes of dry-heaving later had the blond wishing for death.

When he'd managed to stop he swore he heard a voice. It wouldn't be the first time he'd hallucinated during the last few feverish days, or in the lonely and pain filled month since he'd been awakened. He often thought he heard a teammate's voice calling to him and once or twice he'd even thought he'd heard a voice from back home. But this voice was out of place...

"...alive.."

Donut attempted to focus his hazy vision, but all he could make out were splotches of color. There was a large blob of purple filing his vision at the moment.

"...infected...shot..."

He could swear he felt something, but suddenly he was too tired to care. As he let his eyelids droop and fell into sleep he wondered vaguely why the voice sounded so worried. Wasn't he going to heaven?


End file.
